My Only One
by GeekintheJeep
Summary: Blaine and Kurt Skype and everything is okay again. Blaine's pretty sure it isn't a hallucination this time, even if there are puppets involved. (A 5x07 reaction/fix-it fic)


**For anon on Tumblr, who sent me "hat resolution was kinda sucky, but imagine them skyping later and kurt has his puppet and blaine's all like "so... are we okay?" and then the kurt puppet answers and blaine's all smiley and goes to get his puppet and then they talk as the puppets until they just can't anymore and dissolve into laughter and it's super cute uwu" and kind of saved my whole Thanksgiving.**

**Spoilers for 5x07. Fix-it fic.**

**Title from "You're My Best Friend" by Queen.**

* * *

He's had his cursor over the Skype icon for the last five minutes, but he just hasn't been able to muster up the courage to click it open.

They haven't had much of an opportunity to talk since that last disastrous phone call; brief text messages about how Figgins had exposed all of them to a dangerous gas leak in the choir room in a twisted attempt at sabotaging Coach Sylvester and a picture back from Kurt earlier this afternoon of the entire group of them in the loft posing with their puppets that had made Blaine laugh (and then maybe he had cried a little bit, too). So they were okay. He thought.

He hadn't hallucinated anyone as puppets for a whole day, so that had to be a good sign at least.

Taking a deep, sturdying breath, he clicked down and waited for Skype to open. Kurt's incoming call appears on his screen before the page even has time to finish loading.

"I was starting to worry you were in the middle of another hallucination and had forgotten all about me." Kurt says, chin leaned on his hand and grinning at him in his computer monitor.

Blaine has the sense to look chagrined, "No, no. I - I haven't had any hallucinations today. I think whatever it was is finally out of my system." He bites his lip, furrows his eyebrows down at his keyboard, glances back up at the screen through his eyelashes and Kurt has to try to tamp down on his grin while he waits for his fiancé to continue, "So... Are we okay now?"

Kurt holds up a finger in an indication to wait, then disappears out of the frame, leaving Blaine staring at the sight of Kurt's cluttered, tiny, empty room in the loft.

He definitely does not scream when Kurt Puppet pops into the frame from below. He doesn't even flinch. Really.

"Of course we're okay. We were never not okay." Kurt - the puppet - Kurt responds, and he can hear the smile in his voice.

Blaine lets the corners of his mouth twitch upward in the beginnings of a smile and he's halfway out of his chair and reaching for his bag before he stops himself, turning back to the computer screen with a look of barely-concealed horror, "I'm... Not hallucinating again, right? This is real and not all of my insecurities manifesting themselves through a gas-induced hallucination, right?"

"Right. This is real. Just two mature, engaged adults and their puppets have a conversation." Kurt climbs back into his chair, the puppet cuddled up against his side, "Or... It would be. If someone's puppet wasn't missing." he hints.

Finally, Blaine lets himself laugh and leans down to pull his puppet out of his backpack, propping it (him?) up on his desk, "Okay. So, we're really okay?"

"Where is that voice coming from? I don't see your puppet moving his mouth so it can't be him talking!" Kurt exclaims, both human and puppet bringing their hands up to cover their mouths in horror.

"Fine. Fine. ...So we're okay?" he asks, making sure to move the puppet's mouth in time with his own.

"I already told you, Blaine, we're fine. We were never _not_ fine. We never even fought. I told you I had to go right after you said you weren't going to make it and that was it. Sure, I was a little disappointed and you were acting weird, but I get it." Both Kurts shrug, "I mean, you were high on gas fumes because Figgins is insane and you do really like that seat in the corner of the choir room and we really need to get you out of that school, but... We're fine. Promise."

"I... I can't believe it was all in my head." The look of horror that suddenly crosses Blaine's face is almost comical in its intensity, "Oh my god. I told Jake to sit in that seat. I told Jake how to get high. I'm an enabler, Kurt."

"Such a badboy; breaking in Sue's office, telling your classmates how to get high, getting detention... It's kind of hot." The Kurts tell him, the human Kurt (_his_ Kurt) getting that glassy look in his eyes...

Blaine tries. He really, really does. He bites his lip, tries to think about the last time a Skype session headed in this same direction, _anything_. But it's no use and he has to drop his puppet to cover his mouth with his hands as he snorts out a laugh, "I can't do it. I'm sorry. It's just too weird."

But then Kurt's laughing, too, setting his puppet off to the side and laughing in that rare, carefree way that Blaine considers so himself lucky to get to hear, "How did you not realize something was wrong for nearly a week?!"

He groans, burying his head in his hands until his fingers pull at the gel holding his hair down, "I'm so embarrassed. I was such a control freak! And no one even realized something was wrong until yesterday!" That couldn't say flattering things about how he was normally, could it?

"You're not a control freak, Blaine. You're a leader, and New Directions needs someone like that because god knows Schue isn't one."

This is real. This is his Kurt, the one who knows exactly what to say to talk him down. The one who Blaine _knows_ he's good enough for, no matter what he hallucinates to the contrary, "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I love you, too. Now promise me you'll be here for Pamela Lansbury's next gig and I'll be able to show you just how much I love you in person." Kurt suggests, waggling his eyebrows.

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world." He lifts his puppet, "Can he come, too?"

"I would be disappointed if he didn't. Now put the puppet away somewhere he can't see and I'll show you my tattoo and see if we can't get things a little more R-rated in here."

Blaine can't bring himself to be ashamed of just how quickly he scrambles to shove the puppet under his bed.


End file.
